


show me all the things you never say

by halfwheeze, lsegerst



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Clay Clayton is his beta, Getting Together, Harry's linguistic patterns are tragic, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Nonbinary Harry, Other, and so is the Isle, but also Auradon is still a thing, harry is a werewolf, hurt/comfort vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 15:45:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16997895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwheeze/pseuds/halfwheeze, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lsegerst/pseuds/lsegerst
Summary: harry has never come out to someone before; there's never been a point. ben is someone to change that.





	show me all the things you never say

**Author's Note:**

> This is an rp thread by me and Leah, and if it doesn't make sense at some parts, that's why!
> 
> There was very little editing on this besides the romantic ending so... good luck!
> 
> I write Harry and Leah writes Ben, so the dichotomy of quality is p easy to tell - Ben talks so much better. Sorry, lmao!

Ben had been sitting as his desk, glancing over his homework and making some final adjustments to it, looking at the clock every once and awhile to feel in some way connected to the rest of the world. When his door swung open, not even a knock to warn that someone was coming in, he forced himself not to jump. By the very fact that they hadn’t knocked, he already knew it was Harry. Most of the time it felt like Harry was going out of his way to try and scare him when he just barged in, a large grin on his face. Ben sat up a little straighter, putting a warm smile on his face in an effort to seem more welcoming and to hide just how stressed he was.

“Harry! I’m glad you showed up, I was wondering if I’d see you or not tonight.” He had been helping the other adjust for a little bit now, catching him up on everything he had missed out on learning with growing up on the island. “How are you doing?” 

Harry didn’t even think for a moment before he sat on Ben’s desk, at least doing Benjy the respect of finding a clear space to plant his ass. There were stress lines on Ben’s forehead, the ones that the prince nearly always forgot to neutralize when he was trying to turn his expression into something resembling his natural bubbly happiness. It was sickening, weak, to Harry, but he had learned that it was just as much a default setting for Ben as grinning manically was for Harry. It was something he had taught himself to learn how to survive. Harry hadn’t known the Auradon kids needed to survive at all.

“I’m flyin’ high, beastie. You look like someone kicked your puppy, though. What do they have the little prince doing tonight?” he asked, leaning over to look at the page Ben was looking at. Harry wasn’t a good reader yet right side up, and so looking at it upside down looked more like abstract art that something that was supposed to mean anything. 

Ben wished he could say that he was surprised to see Harry just completely sit down on his desk, but it was a common occurrence. He gave up trying to tell him to sit in a chair instead weeks ago. He noticed how Harry looked at him, Ben hated that he could see the holes in his expression, see the parts him that he couldn’t hide. Harry was a mystery to Ben still, someone who even once Ben thought he started to understand him, Harry would do something that would completely erase Ben’s expectations. It made Ben wonder if maybe it was because Harry didn’t even know who he was.

“No, I’m okay. It’s just the usual stuff. A few essays and then some work for my dad.” It was the work for his father that was frustrating. Studying Harry as he tried to look at it for a moment, Ben spun one of the papers so that Harry could maybe make out a few words. He figured he might as well turn it into a learning opportunity. “This is an essay for my history of magic class. It’s all about the Giant Wars.”

Harry made a humming noise in the back of his throat, only barely scanning over the words on the paper before deciding it wasn’t of his interest; the essays weren’t what was stressing Ben anyway. Little princey loved history, loved most of his school subjects, and Harry knew it was more the pressure his father put on him with both hands that gave him the tension in his shoulders. It was everything Harry could do not to react every single time he saw Ben’s father, the fucking headmaster, but it wasn’t unlike seeing his own father. It was just a lesson in knowing when to keep his mouth shut. It was never like that when Harry was just around with Ben. He may have been a prince, but he was still a peer.

“Sounds boring,” Harry said, swinging his legs into Ben’s lap. “Entertain me, Benjy. There’s nothing to do here. How did you live your early teen years in such a place like this?” This was the kind of history that interested Harry; while Benjy was around for his books and his wars, Harry liked his history a bit more personal, a bit more relevant. He liked to hear about the things that made people tick.

Ben’s eyes landed on the boots that were now resting on his legs and he slightly raised an eyebrow at the action, trying not to think about how dirty the shoes were, how many marks they were going to leave on the pants. His attempts failed and he was sure it showed on his face, he didn’t mind the action itself that Harry was doing, but it was just knowing that dirt was slowly being embedded into his clothes. Holding back a sigh he forced himself to look up at Harry’s face and after mentioning his father he could have sworn he saw a flash of anger in the other’s eyes. He pushed it to the back of his mind, as something to think about later when he had the time to analyze it.

“Some of it can be.” He said before laughing softly at the question, “I’m sure talking about all of the things I did would make you even more bored. I mean sure, there’s been plenty parties I’ve gone to, staying out past curfew, going to Hogsmeade when we weren’t supposed to. My housemates are intent on having fun, I couldn’t turn every single invite down simply because I wasn’t supposed to be doing something.” Ben smirked, “But I don’t want to say anything that’s too incriminating.” It was partly a bluff, sure he had done a few things here and there that he wasn’t supposed to but not nearly as many things as he was making it out to seem like.

Harry took his feet out of Ben’s lap, instead putting them on the side of Ben’s chair, just left of where his thigh was so that he could still feel the warmth. It was strange, being inside all the time now, on land, when he used to always be outside on the boat. Varying his temperature some, whether it be to climb in the cool rafters or to lean into the warmth of Ben or Clay, he usually doesn’t care all that much. “What are you on about, love? I am delighted to hear ya lie. It’s so unlike you, how couldn’ I be entertained?” Harry teased, knocking his ankle against Ben’s thigh with a lighter smile than before. It was easy to be in Ben’s room, with the quiet and the light. It was nothing like the Lost Revenge, and even less like Hook’s ship, but it was a different kind of home all the same.

“Oh, yeah, I wanted yous ta look over somethin’ for me, if ya don’t mind? It’s one of those things that I was sposed to turn in at the top of the term, one of those all about yous with the name and the pronouns and the hobbies and no Harry you cannae put down stealin’ an all that. You mind lookin’ over it for mistakes? I might’ve fucked somethin’ up - you’ve seem me right, affer all,” he said, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head with a shade of nerves.

Ben blushed slightly at the sight of Harry moving his leg, realizing how obvious his feelings about it must have been. A part of him wanted to explain why, so Harry would know that it wasn’t him that was bothering him, but it wasn’t worth interrupting the conversation for. Ben chuckled, “Alright you caught me. So far my time at Hogwarts was what you would call entirely boring. But, I’ve enjoyed it.” He knew his experience was the type of experience Harry would have absolutely hated to have, but no matter how much of his time was spent doing work, Hogwarts was better than being privately tutored at home. He had more freedom here than he did at home.

“Of course I’ll look at it, you know I’m always happy to look over any of your work.” The fact that Harry was coming for help at all was a step that he was sure took a lot. As someone who hated asking for help himself, he was proud of Harry for being able to do it. Besides, he liked seeing how Harry slowly improved over the course of the year. Ben took a moment of silence, reading of the paper intently to make sure everything was right. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he looked at the pronouns section. The rest of it was actually good but what Harry had put down wasn’t what Ben had expected to see. “You’re non-binary?”

Harry felt a wave of cold wash over him, but he tried to push it away from himself, make it different from his own emotions, because Hooks did not react to things like that, did not grow insecure in the face of pretty little princes and questions one should already know the answer to. Hooks did not break. Harry pushed a smile onto his face that he was sure looked real, looked nearly manically happy, never insecure, never broken. No matter how broken he was, he had never mastered being broken out loud, being proud of what the Isle had done to the ridges of his spine, how twisted he had become because of the place from whence he had come. He was stone, just like his sisters, but he was a lot more fun.

“Yeah, princey. I have been the whole time,” he laughed, smoothing it over with the rudiments of his charm to make it sound quite a bit more real than it was. There was no reason to trouble a prince with something so trivial as his pronouns, even if that prince was Ben, and even if the confidence he was supposed to feel was meant to make it not feel as if it was trouble at all. He may have felt safe enough to put down his bag in Ben’s floor, to show his work on Ben’s desk, but this was a part of himself that he didn’t know how to lay out flat. Parts of the paper would always be hard to read from the damage it had earned.

Ben saw the flicker of emotion in Harry’s face, the way he tried to hide afterwards as if it happened. It was something Ben was more than familiar with, his whole life he had pretended to seem happier than he was, put on a face to appear as the person that everyone wanted him to be. But seeing Harry do it instantly filled him with guilt because he had been the cause of it and Ben had promised himself he would never make anyone feel as though they had to hide how they truly felt. Ben kept his face neutral, making it so that Harry couldn’t see how guilty he was, how much it hurt him to know that he had made the other even slightly uncomfortable

The laugh felt forced and Ben frowned, allowing a little bit of his guilt to show. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I wish I had know, I wouldn’t have…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I didn’t think you were. If I had even had the slightest clue I would have made sure to ask so I would use the right pronouns.” He a hand through his hair, “Why didn’t you tell me?” It didn’t come out as accusatory but rather in more of a curious tone. This whole time Ben had been working to make sure Harry felt comfortable, he was sure not knowing about something like this had probably negatively affected his efforts.

Benjy did not deserve the broken pieces of Harry Hook. It could be argued that no one did, and Harry would never contest that, if not perhaps for Clay, for Gil and for Uma, who have all asked for those pieces in different ways. Ben Florian knew not what he asked for, not the caverns he wished to navigate, and Harry would not let him be lost in all of Harry’s emptiness. This was one of those days where his head could not decide if it was too empty or too full, both blank inside and seeing things out of the corners of his eyes. He focused himself together, dissecting the impulse to curl himself in smaller until it fell away to nothing, not even the slightest bit of a want, let alone a need. His smile lost some of its sharpness, turning into something more wistful.

“It wasn’t a big deal, beastie. It’s not like it matters,” Harry said, even though he knew it would hit a chord inside of Benjy that Harry didn’t always want to hit. “You can look at the paper, I still use he and him. You haven’t done me any wrongs, little prince. There’s nothin’ a’ be ashamed of. No reason a be sorry,” Harry assuaged; he was no good at comfort, no good for anything like this, but he tried, Heaven’s angels, he tried.

Hearing the words hurt more than anything else he could have ever said. Harry’s confidence had always been something that a bit of an enigma to Ben. He was the type who came off as if he was more sure of himself than anyone else on the planet but dig a little deeper, spend some more time with him and he’d start to say things sometimes that made it sound as if Harry didn’t think much of himself at all. Just the very thought of it made Ben’s blood boil. Because this was a big deal, bigger than probably anything else that had been discussed between them. It was a part of Harry’s identity and Ben wanted to know Harry, actually know him, not just to see the sides of him Harry allowed for Ben to see. 

“Harry this is something that matters. It’s really important, I mean it’s a whole part of you I didn’t know about. Even if it doesn’t matter to you, it matters to me;” Ben had noticed the way his smile had changed, he didn’t think he had ever seen a smile like it on Harry’s face before. “Let me apologize for this Harry. Even if you think that I haven’t done anything wrong, let me at least apologize for creating an environment where you felt like it wasn’t important enough to tell me.”

He saw the hurt flash in Ben’s eyes, but there was nothing Harry could do to retract the truth from the little space they tended to share, the closeness that had become just so familiar as the sound of Ben’s voice resounding off of the walls. Harry twitched, switching his rings back and forth on his fingers like he always did when he was nervous, the second ring on his right ring finger over to his left hand, and then back, then the ring on his left thumb over to his right hand and back, methodical and quick. He cleared his expression as he looked back down at Ben, breathing out slowly through his nose.

 

“Benjy. It’s not an environment you created, love. It’s just the environment that is. You’re… so much more, than this, than me, than the things you’ve done. It’s not important. You don’t have to be sorry for my bullshit. It’s just a piece of me, and not even one of the big ones,” Harry explained, disjointed and broken apart, because he had never been this genuine before. He couldn’t telegram his thoughts into Ben’s skin like he did with Clay, couldn’t reassure by patching up the bruises like he did with Gil’s knuckles, couldn’t hiss wary words at enemies like he did for Uma. There was nothing he could do that was familiar, and words were so hard when used like this.

Ben wanted to reach out, to take Harry’s hands in his own and hold them. He recognized the habit of playing with the rings, he had done it countless times. These days he had to tell himself not to, it was a habit that his father had yelled at him for once, claiming that it showed he wasn’t sure of himself. But this time, he was sure of himself. He was sure of how much he wanted to take away all of Harry’s pain, to make him see how wonderful he was, to understand what a positive impact he was having on Ben’s life. But seeing Harry spin the rings on his fingers made him itch to spin the golden one on his ring finger. He didn’t let himself.

“That’s not true.” Ben’s voice came out as barely a whisper, they were so close he didn’t need to raise his voice and he was scared that if he did raise it, he wouldn’t be able to stop yelling. “I’m not important. What I’ve done isn’t important. I’m not so much more than you. Harry, all I did was be born into royalty and I didn’t even do that. The things that give my life meaning are people like you. Helping you, getting to know you, that’s what makes someone like me worth anything. None of this is bullshit, it’s important because you matter. You are important. I want to know all of the pieces of you, big and small. And I don’t care how imperfect you think those pieces are because I have spent my whole life learning that despite everyone striving to be perfect, the best parts of life are the parts that aren’t.”

The whispering. People didn’t whisper on the Isle, all raised voices and violence, and Ben wasn’t either of those things, wasn’t anything that Harry could call familiar. He had only ever whispered to Clay in the dead of night, when the rest of the ship was asleep and there was the one silent moment of calm that allowed for something to delicately quiet. Harry stopped spinning his rings from finger to finger, instead grasping his hands together, though not tightly. He couldn’t bare to show weakness like that. Not even to Ben. Not here, and not now; not with his father’s voice starting to creep in over the tick of the clock. Tick of the clock, tick tock croc, louder, louder, louder. Harry shut it out, and he let it build up, enough to blow off.

“You’re so fucking - people aren’t like that, princey! People don’t care about other people’s bullshit, and people don’t care about pronouns and all the bullshit that people know about themselves that isn’t even really meant for any fucking body else, people don’t care about that shit! You can’t just say that you care about shit that no one fucking cares about. People don’t care,” Harry said, his voice not raised, but in the sweet spot between his cold rage and his saccharine sweetness, because there was no way Ben could care about this. He was a prince, a prince with really real responsibilities, and Harry was just a pet project anyway. He should go back to Uma and Gil and Clay, where no one pretended to care more than they did. Maybe he was meant to be on the Isle after all.

Ben felt his expression crumble and any hint of a smile completely wiped away, it wasn’t worth it to keep up some appearance, to act as if he felt any different than how he really did. It was hard for Ben to wrap his brain around, to be so conditioned to a certain lifestyle that you would actually believe that human nature was not to care. There had been some rough patches for him growing up, a complicated relationship with his father, but when it came down to it he knew his parents loved him, that they cared about him. He knew his friends cared about him, that he could go to them when he needed something or someone to talk to. He knew what it was like to be loved, to have people who genuinely wanted to spend time with him because they cared. It was the first time Ben realized that Harry had never really had that.

“They are like that.” Ben said as he stood up, deciding that he hated having to look up at Harry when he spoke to him, that he wanted to be at his level. “I think most people do care about others and maybe I’m wrong, maybe there’s barely anyone like that out there but I care. Even if no one else in the world does, I care about you and everything that you think is bullshit. I know it was different on the Isle but things aren’t like that here. It’s okay to care about others, it’s normal to care about others, especially friends. If you think that nobody cares about you let me be the one person that does.” He wished he had a better idea of what things were like for Harry growing up, so he could understand where he was coming from better. But in the past, Ben had always felt like asking Harry about his childhood felt off limits, he hadn’t wanted to overstep a boundary.

The was a deep ingrained part of Harry that had to fight not to flinch back when Ben got out of his seat, instead opening himself to the boy, trying to be okay with the right of movement that Ben had just carved out of the air, trying to process Ben’s words as well as his movements. He was familiar with Ben in his space, and there wasn’t any reason to be so completely put off by it, and it only took Harry a moment to relax. To get himself to relax, as it were. He tuned back in about five seconds after Ben started speaking again, only missing the first little bit.

Auradon was strange. Hogwarts was strange. Ben, with his bright eyes and his smiles and his hope, was strange. Ben who fought with his father and still loved him and never feared him so strongly like Harry did his own, Ben who would rather talk things out than scramble into a fight even if it was faster, looked better, Ben who didn’t mind the slow, laborious task of picking Harry apart so he could learn the things that Harry didn’t think were worth learning, was so strange. There weren’t enough words, not in Harry’s admittedly limited knowledge, to describe how struck he was with the way that Ben simply didn’t care about the earnest way he looked so obviously at what he wanted, how much that scared Harry.

“Anybody ever tell ya you’re a strange lad, Benjy? You’re like that, sure, but not everyone’s gonna be like that. People who are like that don’t let little kiddies grow up on the Isle, or have shite parents that I’m sure some heroes are. Don’t ya know that carin’ about me is a waste o’ time, beastie? There’s nothin’ for you to get here. You want somethin’, care about an Auradon kid, or Evie or Gil, or someone who’s got somethin’ good in them. That isn’t me, Ben. I’m not worth savin’,” he explained, his voice coming off hoarse at the end from no longer holding on to his anger, and all Harry truly felt was tired.

Ben took a small step away, his hands running through his hair, his emotions starting to catch up with him a little too much. He knew he couldn’t convince someone to change their mindset, especially when they had grown up being taught something their entire life. You couldn’t just tell them something and expect it to change, he couldn’t just tell Harry that he cared about him and expect for Harry to believe him. Ben knew Harry had no reason to trust him when he said things like that, in fact, he had every reason to not believe him. It was what he had been taught to do his entire life, Ben figured it was probably what he had to do to survive.

Ben could wish all day long that Harry’s upbringing hadn’t been the way it was, but that didn’t change the fact that that’s just how it was and he knew that, even if he didn’t want it to be true. He knew it was impossible to go back and undo all the things that had been done to him, to make it so that he had never suffered at all, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. He turned away, pacing back and forth as an excuse to not meet Harry’s eye. He couldn’t. He couldn’t stand to see the look in Harry’s eyes, the lifetime of hurt that was buried in them. 

He paused his pacing, looking over at him as he talked and letting out a sad sigh, “Yeah, I know. People do bad things, some worse than others. And I think the Isle was a rushed decision, it was a short term solution that’s being used as a long term one and it’s not right, it never will be right. But people do still care and love. It’s not a waste of time because I’m not doing this to gain something, I’m not trying to get anything out of this, you aren’t some project for me that I’m trying to fix. You’re a person and the only thing I’m trying to gain out of this is a friend.” 

Ben took a moment to look at him, to really look at him and it wasn’t hard to tell that his words weren’t going to mean anything. Harry was not someone who could be persuaded, if he had any chance of proving that he did care, he needed to function completely on Harry’s level. He couldn’t use words. Harry had spent every single moment since he had come to Hogwarts having to change how he reacted and responded to things to fit in with everyone else’s viewpoint. Ben thought it was time that changed. Taking a small breath, he strode back across the room, closing the distance between them, standing between his legs and wrapping his arms around him, pulling Harry into a hug. “I’m sorry.” He murmured, apologizing for the crimes of his people, of his parents, of his country, of the society he participated in.

Harry gritted his teeth to the tune of Ben’s pacing, pulling himself in around the shoulders so that he didn’t react to any of the buzzing going on in his head, the sloshing of water that he could have sworn he could hear in the back of his mind. All of this for the gender issues he had never even wholeheartedly explained to Clay, or even Uma, or even Gil, something that he kept so close to his chest that he just attacked people who called him a boy back home, never saying the words to anyone, never making the song on dance even in Auradon to give anyone the implication he might not be cis. This was the first form he had ever put his proper pronouns on, and he almost wished he hadn’t shown it to Ben at all, just handed in the mistakes and gotten over himself when he was wrong. He was always wrong.

His father had always paced when Harry was but a wee thing, ranting about a Peter Pan that Harry had never had the displeasure of meeting, cursing himself and cursing Pan and cursing Smee most of all for whatever reason; Harry had always liked Uncle Smee, but he didn’t see him much after he began collecting friends of his own. Smee always made sure that Hook didn’t get too violent, too sporadic, didn’t do too much damage to Harry because Harriet was already gone with CJ dragging on behind her, Harry left alone with the adult pirates who made him into who he became. Harry brought himself back to the absolute shock of shared body heat, of Ben Florian seeing fit as to touch him, and Harry sat stock still for a moment, completely unknowing of how to react in a situation quite like this.

Ben Florian was wrapped around him and Harry felt simultaneously on fire and as if he had had a bucket of ice dumped directly onto his head, both shivering and sweating, though he did neither. Instead, Harry came into his physical body slowly, wrapping his arms Ben’s shoulders, and his legs around Ben’s hips. He didn’t know how to do this, how to show affection and not feel completely false while doing so, but it was almost easy with Ben, almost like touching was something that people just did, instead of a punishment or a thin reward for something Harry had done. He pressed his face into Ben’s throat, for once not feeling any violent impulses in it, just feeling warm.

“Wasn’t you, princey. You didn’t do it,” he said, just so quiet, just so whispering in a way that Harry never had, Harry Hook who always raised his voice, who always had to be bigger than himself to stay alive. Ben was smaller than him but felt as safe as houses, as safe as a home, just as a person. He didn’t know how long hugs were supposed to last, but the only other person that Harry ever touched was Clay, and he would let this last so long as his prince would allow it.

The feeling of Harry not knowing how to hug him back properly, made him hold him just a little bit tighter. Ben knew what it felt like to feel like you weren’t enough, to think that you would be never be enough. Everything Harry had said, how he didn’t think he was deserving of Ben’s care reminded him of the nights he had spent completely alone, questioning if he would ever feel like his life was worth anything. Everyone knew him and sure, he made efforts to say hello to as many people as he could, but when it came to genuine friends, he was a little short on them. Sure he had Chad and Audrey, but he wasn’t naive enough to think that they would stick around much longer, he wasn’t naive to the realization that some days they were just using him. They were childhood friends, they met because of their parents and they weren’t like him, not really.

He made every single effort to go out of his way to include people and meet new people, but he spent so much time inside his room or an office working that he missed out on more opportunities than he could count. He had missed out on a childhood of the freedom to run around and actually be a kid. It left him feeling lost and afraid and unsure of himself and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why Harry possibly thought of him as anything. His father didn’t, some days he wondered if even his mother did, some days he was unsure if really anyone thought much of anything about him.

Ben knew not everyone thought him deserving of the title, as much as he had tried to please everyone. He noticed the way people treated him, the way they would change topics as he walked by, as if he was going to report them and get them kicked out. To a certain extent, his title ostracized him and when he struggled to find his place among his peers, he couldn’t even express his misgivings to his parents. They were so easily disappointed to the point that some days he thought the only thing he would ever be to them was a disappointment.

“It doesn’t matter.” It didn’t matter because it was people like him, royals, his parents, the people he had grown up being surrounded by who decided it would be okay to leave children on a lawless island with the worst criminals known to man. It didn’t matter because people like Harry deserved an apology from somebody to know that someone cared about them. It didn’t matter because Ben knew there was no one else on the planet who would ever apologize for anything that had happened to him and someone with even a slight bit of power needed to acknowledge that what happened wasn’t okay. And all Ben had was a title and some money and parents who held power, but he was going to do something, even if right now all he could do was to offer an apology of some kind. 

Harry fought down the impulse to scent mark Ben, even if he was half way there with his face against Ben’s throat. The wolf in him wanted to claim, but he knew that wasn’t what Ben wanted, even if it was a claim that wouldn’t affect him at all; Ben Florian had been claimed too many times in his life for one so young, and Harry could recognise the want to be one’s own in him. If anyone deserved to be his own man on his own two feet, it was this sweet boy who stood between Harry’s knees and yet still not too close, not crowding but comforting, not overwhelming but comfortable. The wolf in Harry wanted to confirm forever, but humans didn’t do that; humans and wizards alike knew that Harry and Clay were freaks, but he would take that up with Ben at another time; one flaw at a time.

He squeezed Ben a little before letting go of him around the shoulders, hands moving down to Ben’s upper arms, though his thighs and knees still bracketed Ben’s hips. Ben wasn’t very tall, two or three inches shorter than Harry when he was standing, and still shorter when Harry was sitting on a surface higher than his ass would normally be. He didn’t know how to end physical contact, didn’t know how to not want it, so after someone else initiated it, it was a lot of trouble for Harry to even attempt to push someone away, especially someone like Ben, someone he didn’t really want to push away anyway.

“Ya’d find a way to blame yourself for anythin’, ye know? Someone could be talkin’ about the spread of whatever plague ye like, and ye’d find some ancient relative to blame it on and then trace the blame right up to yourself,” Harry teased, the first semblances of a broken smile coming back to his face, and if he had cried in any of the time since he was five years old, one might describe his smile as watery. However, as it were, it was just a sad little thing, nothing with any rhyme or reason to it that Harry could blame anything for. There were no tears in his eyes, but a lifetime of sadness behind them.

“We were sposed to be lookin’ at somethin’, beastie. You got us all distracted,” Harry remarked, changing the subject by taking his hand off of Ben’s arm to grab at the paper he had been trying to show Ben. “I would have told ya in the first place, if I knew you was gonna make such a big deal of it all,” he said, running the thumb that was still on Ben’s arm along the sleeve there. It was the closest he knew how to get to an apology, but it was more than he would ever give to anyone else.

Ben gave Harry the softest smile he had ever seen, taking the paper out of his hand and putting it back on the desk. Harry was about to protest when a hand cupped the back of his head, running fingers through his short hair and stopping his breath in his throat, because there was no way a prince wanted the same things as he did. Not after learning one of the most trivial things about him, not after getting to know him even more. 

“Can I kiss you?” Ben asked, and the idea that someone would ask was almost too much for Harry. He nodded, unable to make his voice work, and when Ben’s lips touched his, Harry couldn’t imagine having ever said no. 

Ben kissed in the same way he spoke, soft, sure, with the prime intention of making Harry more comfortable than he had ever deserved to be. Harry had kissed before, because of course he had, but never someone so soft as Ben, never someone who made him feel as if he deserved softness like Ben did. Harry’s legs enclosed around Ben’s hips once again, pulling him in to stay, and they exchanged soft kisses, warm and sweet, for the rest of the afternoon. Ben had to finish his essay the next morning, in a rush, to the sweet tune of Harry Hook’s laughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I may post some of our other threads.


End file.
